


Move the Earth

by Papa



Category: Marvel, X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men Apocalypse - Fandom
Genre: Chubby Reaer, Gen, Gender-neutral Reader, Other, Past Abuse, Slow Build, Tags to be added, also angel is still alive and lives in the mansion, also jean, also logan shows up later and ororo gets heart eyes, also psylocke doesn't know he's alive, but they have a bad temper, i refuse to acknowledge his death i just c a n ' t, lots of things get broken and charles can feel a hole burning through his wallet, peter and jubilee get on their nerves a lot at first but they become really good friends later on, plus she's the leader of a band of angry and powerful mutants who looked up to apocalypse, reader can control rocks with their mind, they're also really strong and a lil shy, this whole story is just a big au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 11:52:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7049485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Papa/pseuds/Papa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>{Based after the events of X-Men Apocalypse}</p><p>   After having nearly destroyed their broken home due to their hot temper and ability to move rocks with their mind, the reader heads out to Xavier's School for Gifted Mutants- but not before witnessing something that immediately puts their life in danger.<br/>Can the school truly prove to be a sanctuary for mutants in need or will it merely give them shelter for a certain amount of time before handing them over to a pissed mutant and her followers?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Move the Earth

**Author's Note:**

> So now that I've gotten the gist of the story out and looking (hopefully) a lot better, I can finally say that it's ready to rock and roll (i'm so sorry). 
> 
> There will no doubt be a ton of spoilers for the movie for those who have yet to even see it, but I suggest you go watch it before reading. Or not, either way is fine.

"...and it was because of just that faulty gene that the Mutant race began to rise up."  
  
    You held back a sigh of exasperation as your teacher continuously droned on, his tone dull and more monotone than one's voice ever should be- especially in a class such as this. Science used to be one of your favorite classes, but ever since the Mutant uprising, the one where Magneto had nearly killed the president and given his oh so 'infamous' speech, this class had been nothing but genes and blood types an the evolution of mankind. It was so... _boring._  
  
    A light tap to the side of your head had you turn around in your seat slightly to glance down at whatever had the audacity to come within an inch of you. A wadded piece of yellowed paper laid on the ground by one of your desk's legs, the very sight making you twitch unhappily. A sharp, yet surprisingly quiet whistle, broke you from your intense stare-off with the offending object and you looked up. Jeremy, one of your classmates whom you rather not enjoyed the presence of, was grinning in a snarky way towards you. Figures he'd be the one to have thrown the paper, it was usually always him.   
  
    He and his band of neanderthals usually were always on your case, whether it be about your weight, which was mainly the case, or your choice of clothing. They' often asked if you shoppe at thrift stores or went dumpster diving and would even go so far as to slam you against various walls and lockers to try and get a reaction out of you; which you'd unfortunately always give them. It often came in the forms of curses and threats to beat them into the ground, which you almost would have done if it weren't for the principal. That damn woman was _always_ on your case, repeatedly finding violation after violation against school rules and planting you in the office where you'd sit until your father would come around.   
  
    He was an incredibly feeble man, rather scrawny and nearly always sick. You knew he'd only married your stepmother after your mother passed for someone to look after you. Sure there had been some sort of affection at one point or another, but now that she was living under his roof, even more so in his wallet, she had become cruel and twisted. If she wasn't boozed up, she was angry, but if she was boozed up she was furious at the both of them for allowing her to drink. It was an endless cycle with this woman.   
  
    Another wad of crumpled paper jolted you from your thoughts and you immediately shot a glare in Jeremy's direction. He merely twiddled his fingers in response, giving you a seemingly innocent smile.   
  
"{F/N}," The teacher suddenly commented and you slowly turned your gaze in his direction, "Is something the matter?"  
  
    You opened your mouth to snap back a remark about Jeremy being a nuisance but decided against it. No doubt he and his goons would get you back for that and you weren't really feeling up to getting beat that evening. So you shook your head instead, looking back down to your desk.   
  
"Then please keep your attention to the front," The elder man stated slowly before going back to his lecture.   
  
    Embarrassment hit you like the plague and you swore your face had turned a bit pink from the talk. A few giggles rose above the class, no doubt belonging to a few of Jeremy's friends or random strangers who just found delight in their fellow classmates getting a talking to from the teacher.   
  
"Psst, {F/N}," Jeremy whispered from behind you, no doubt still wearing that shit eating grin, "You deaf now or somethin'?"  
  
_'Just ignore him,'_ You thought to yourself, _'He's not worth it.'_  
  
    It wasn't until a sudden smack to the back of your head, which must have been a pencil this time, made you twist around and shove the male back; though seeing as the both of you were still in your seats it didn't do much.   
  
"Knock it off!" You hissed, palms now pressed against the wood of his desk as he gave you a triumphant grin.   
  
"{F/N}! Jeremy!" Your teacher shouted in a loud voice, shocking the class as he'd never spoke in anything more than a dull indoor voice, "See me after class."  
  
    It was just at that moment that the bell rang loudly, students immediately standing up and grabbing their things to rush out the door. Since this happened to be the last period, they'd be running to get home, so the school would no doubt be emptied out rather fast.   
  
    You grumbled to yourself, grabbing your bag and few items that ha been set on your desk as you slowly got up and went to the front of the room to face the teacher; Jeremy taking twice as long. The teacher didn't look to pleased, but he wasn't exactly looking at you.   
  
"{F/N}," He began, "I'd like to apologize for my calling you out. It seems that Mr. Jacobs here has been the source of the problem, you may leave."  
  
    You paused, brows raising and eyes widening. You...weren't the one getting in trouble this time? No. Freaking. Way. A wave of relief rushed over you and you gave a thankful nod, even sparing a tiny grin before rushing out of the room before Jeremy could catch you.   
  
" _You_ on the other hand..." You could hear your teacher trail off as you practically bolted own the hallway.  
  
    By the time you burst outside the parking lot was nearly empty, a few students straggled behind, either talking with their friends or just loitering around the courtyard as they waited for a ride. You continued your trek home, though you had slowed your pace considerably, blood rushing in your ears from how hard your heart was pounding. You adjusted the hold on your bag as you walked down the sidewalk and through the suburban neighborhoods to get to your house, which, thankfully, wasn't too far away from the school.   
  
    As you walked you heard the familiar sounds of laughter mixed with playful screams coming within one of the houses you had to walk passed in order to get home. Ever since the woman's son left for some fancy boarding school, she'd been always inviting friends over. You swore you saw a child or two running passed the opened door quite a few times, but never wanted to ask the woman on the matter. It wasn't your business anyway.   
  
    Sighing, your shoulders sagged as your eyes laid on your front door and you began making your way up the short walkway to the entrance. As you wandered in you could hear the slurred voice of your stepmother an even meeker voice of your father in the kitchen. The two were no doubt arguing about something or other, so you steered clear of the room.   
  
"Who's there?"   
  
    Shit.  
  
"Just me," You replied quietly, deciding it best to head into the dreaded room instead of walking off. That'd no doubt end in a disaster.   
  
    As soon as you walked in however, you froze. Your father was leaning against the wall, a slab of frozen meat in his hand that was pressed against his face. He was almost hunched over, not turning towards you as if he was trying to hide.   
  
"Dad, what-"  
  
"What're you doin' here so late?" Your stepmother spat, her words venomous as she glared in your direction.   
  
    You glanced at the kitchen clock which just so happened to be directly above the ghastly woman's head, the time barely being half passed three. It was at this time you also noticed how disheveled she looked. Her hair was sticking out in several places and she was wearing clothing that seemed as if it hadn't been washed in a while. She no doubt stank rotten too, thank god you weren't close to her.   
  
    You wanted to defend yourself and say that you weren't late, actually a bit early than yesterday but the look she was giving you made you hesitate.   
  
"Sorry..." You settled on apologizing, "It won't happen again..."  
  
"It better not," She huffed, taking a long swig from the brown bottle in her hand, "You get into too much trouble anyway."  
  
    Biting your tongue to hold back what you _really_ wanted to say to the woman, you turned your attention to your father. He was struggling to stay standing, mumbling to himself.  
  
"What's wrong?" You asked him, walking over and gently placing your hands on his shoulders to help him sit at the table instead of leaning against the wall.   
  
"He fell."  
  
"I wasn't talking to you."  
  
    You froze, eyes widening as your father's hand shot out to grip your hand at your sudden slip up. Shit, fuck, shit, fuck, sh-  
  
"Excuse me?" She asked sharply, the sound of her bottle being put own had you swallow thickly.   
  
    It was now or never, you were tired of letting this happen to your father. Screw your own safety, she had no right to-   
  
"Shit!" You cursed as she ha grabbed a fistful of your hair, wrenching you back from your father, whose grip was like steel on your hand.  
  
    She shook you roughly and you swore you could feel the roots from your hair being yanked away from your scalp. No doubt you'd be losing a few clumps throughout this whole ordeal. She moved to shove your father away from you and he fell back, exclaiming in pain as the back of his head slammed against the table.   
  
"Do you see what you make me do?!" She shrieked before shaking you again, shoving you to the floor, "You little shit, after all I've done! I just want some goddamn respect from you is that too much to ask?!"  
  
    As soon as you smacked against the tile, she kicked you roughly in the side and raised her foot to do it a second time. Before she could, however, she gasped in alarm. Your father had some how mustered up the strength and courage to rush at the woman, slamming her against the wall and away from you as you tried to catch your breath.   
  
"S-stop it, Lorelei!" Your father shouted, trying to keep the writhing woman from moving too much, "Just calm down and we can all just talk about this!"  
  
    It didn't take long for the woman to overpower him, her face flushed with rage as she all but smashed him backwards into the table so hard you could hear the audible snap of something breaking within him. He crumpled to the floor, whimpering as he desperately grasped at his arm.  
  
    Before you could even manage to get up she was already at your throat. Long, bony fingers wrapped around your thick neck and squeezed tight enough that you instinctively began kicking your legs, hands scratching long red lines into her arms and hands. She screamed obscenities and angry words into your face as you choked and gasped for air, desperately trying to get her off of you.   
  
    It was all too much, you were already seeing black at the edge of your vision, tears starting to peek out from the corners of your eyes. She squeezed tighter, having sat on your stomach so any air that'd been locked away in your lungs escaped. This was it. You were going to die.   
  
    Your hands began to feel heavy and were slowly dropping away from her own, your eyelids fluttering. You swore that the floors and walls were shaking, something shattered and the weight around your neck eased up considerably.   
  
"{F/N}!" Your father shouted and you managed to crack one of your eyes open slightly, "Fight her!"  
  
    He had his hand outreached for you, eyes wide as he desperately called out your name repeatedly. Your fingers were twitching as you managed to get a gulp of air before her hands were around your neck again.   
  
"I'm going to make sure no one ever disrespects me again," She said in a dark voice, "Not that bastard and especially not _you._ "  
  
    Your hands shot back up to her wrists, a surge of sudden adrenaline running through you at the sound of her wanting to harm your father. You squeezed her wrists hard and she immediately yelped in pain, eyes widening at the sudden shaking the house happened to be going through once again.  
  
    The clock fell off the wall and glasses flew to the floor, the floor creaking and groaning before it started cracking. The first thing that ran through your head was that an earthquake was happening but that didn't matter. Your and your father's safety was the most important thing at the moment.   
  
    With an alarming jolt of strength, you shoved the woman back hard enough that she'd slam into the wall; her wrists already having turned black and blue from the force of your own hands. There was sound of something small hitting the window repeatedly before a loud smash resonated throughout the room. A rock the size of your head flew past your shoulder and smashed into the wall near your stepmother's head, narrowly missing her ear.   
  
    A dozen pebbles and rocks of various sizes and shapes shortly followed, each soaring towards the woman at an alarming pace. You had ducked down in shock, shielding your head in fear. You were sure a few of them had hit her before everything seemed to stop. All noise, all movement, everything froze.   
  
    You slowly lowered your arms and swallowed shakily, looking around the now wreaked room. Dust and dirt had made the air thick and hard to breathe, but that wasn't the only odd thing. The rocks and pebbles that seemed to have come from nowhere were being suspended in the air. Just floating in place as if being dangled by an invisible string. There was no noise in the house room asides from a dull humming noise. The sight of your terrified stepmother frozen in place from her position on the floor against the wall had you swallow once again.   
  
"{F/N}..." Your father said slowly and you immediately looked to him, his hand suspended in the air, fingers spread out. Sweat had perked up on his forehead and he looked as if he was trying to focus on the floating rock, "{I can't hold them for much longer, we need to go."  
  
"W-what-"  
  
"Go grab your things, please," He was shaking a bit.   
  
    You hesitated before standing shakily, a sharp pain in your head making you wobble. As you staggered out of the room the rocks all collapsed to the cracked floor and your father seemed to relax considerably, though his hand was still outstretched.   
  
    As fast as you could, you emptied the contents of your backpack on the floor as you rushed to your room and began shoving clothes and personal effects into the bag. Deciding it best to grab a few more things, you ducked into your closet and pulled out your suitcase, shoving what little personal effects you had into it, making sure the picture of your mother and father was the last thing to go in. Slipping on your back and holing onto the handle of your case you rushed back into the kitchen, only to find that your father was no where to be seen and that your stepmother was still frozen.   
  
    The whole seen was honestly terrifying and you wanted nothing more than to leave as fast as possible. What the hell even happened?  
  
"{F/N}, come on," Your father said and you turned to face him, swallowing at the sight of a large bag slung over his shoulder. He was holding a pamphlet against his injured arm as he walked out the door, glancing over his shoulder at you to make sure you were following him.   
  
    As soon as the both of you were out of the house a loud crash came from within the kitchen and the sound of your stepmother shrieking hit your ears. Police sirens weren't too far in the distance and your father immediately picked up his pace. You had so many questions, but now didn't seem like the time.   
  
"D-dad, I don't-"  
  
"Just wait," He cut you off, sounding in a large amount of pain as he limped along, "We need to leave. We...we have to go."  
  
"Wait, go? Go where?! What the hell is going on?!" You desperately plea as the sound of police sirens got closer.   
  
    Groaning a bit your father let go of his arm and turned to face you, holding up the pamphlet from earlier.   
  
"Westchester, there's a place for people like us up there," He said before grasping onto his arm once again.   
  
"Wha- New York?! You want us to walk to New York?! Dad have you lost your mind?!"  
  
"{F/N}, please bear with me here," He swallowed as he started walking, "I have money. We'll get a car, be there in no time."  
  
    You pursed your lips before you heavily sighed and continued to follow your father as he moved on down the road, the sounds of sirens all but far away now as the both of you continued. You weren't sure what you were going to do, but you were definitely afraid of the outcome. All you could do was just wait until the two of you got somewhere safe.   
  


~

    When you'd both made it to the center of town, your head was pounding and your neck ached. You were sure your dad didn't feel any better, especially with his arm having broken. It hurt to breathe, you noted, the hand that wasn't dragging along your suitcase having been pressed into your side, right above your ribs. None of them felt cracked or broken...bruised? Oh most defiantly.

"We'll stop at that motel up there," Your father suddenly commented, nodding ahead to a shady looking building with a flickering 'vacant' sign in the front window.

    You only nodded in reply, it hurt to talk or really do anything at that moment. As you both went inside, you immediately searched for a bathroom. Your father in return went to the front counter to talk to the greasy looking man who must have been the owner. Figures, he matched the outside of the building. 

    Upon finding the restroom, you rushed into the first one you saw, not caring whether it was for men or women and immediately went to the first stall you saw. After having one your business, you went to wash your hands, pausing to look at your appearance in the mirror. 

    You looked terrible. You were a shade paler than your usual skin color, your hair a mess, and a set of dark purple bruises had appeared on either side of your throat. You looked like you had just been in the worst fight of your life, which you had, but no one else needed to know that. Dried blood had cake up around the edge of your hairline, no doubt from when the bitch had shaken you when she had you by the hair. Setting down your suitcase, you grabbed a paper towel and dampened it up a bit before you gently began scrubbing along your forehead. 

    Once you ha that taken care of, you threw away the towel and grabbed your case, turning and walking out of the bathroom. Your father was waiting quietly, waving a hand as he walked down the hall to one of the rooms. You swallowed as you followed him, honestly wanting nothing more than a large glass of water and a shower. Especially a shower. 

    Reaching the room in question, your father pushed a key into the slot and shouldered the door open, immediately tossing his bag onto the single, dirty bed. As soon as you closed the door, you heard him sigh. 

"You must have a lot of questions," He said slowly, not daring to sit down on the gross mattress. 

"No shit," You replied, setting down your case and crossing your arms, "What the fuck is going on?"

    On any other occasion he would of been upset for your use of language, but at the moment he seemed far too exhausted to care. He ran a hand through his thin hair and shook his head, looking like he was trying to figure out the right words to explain what was going on. He finally just gave up, sighing in defeat. 

"Mutation, {F/N}," He began, "Mutation is what's going on."

"What, like...like what happened in DC?" You asked. 

"Yes," He nodded, "Except the fact that it's happening to you. Your mother, God rest her soul, had it. She could make the flowers grow, you know. She just needed to look at the ground and a whole field of them would appear in an instant. I'm telekinetic, I can move things with my mind. Granted, I'm not as powerful as most, so it uses up a lot of my energy..."

    You nodded slowly, brows furrowing, "So...what, that whole thing with the rocks floating and the house shaking?"

"I only stopped the rocks," He explained, "You...you made the ground move and the rocks appear in the first place. I think you can manipulate the earth."

"B-but how? I didn't even try to do anything!"

"Well, mutations can appear under times of great stress. You were obviously in a great amount of danger so your body immediately went into that fight or flight mode, this being more of a fight than anything. You protected yourself from a threat that would have killed you."

    You swallowed shakily, slowly moving to sit on the grimy floor as you ran your hands through your hair as you tried to process everything. You? A mutant? _How?_ Well, you knew that part. _Thanks science class, for being useful for once._ You were shaking slightly, going over the multiple outcomes that could happen from this all happening. 

    Before you could ask further there was a sharp knock at the door. You both froze, snapping your attention to the closed entrance. There was a pause before the noise happened again. 

"Open up!" A loud and commanding voice demanded from the other side of the door. 

    You immediately stood up, grabbing your suitcase and backing up behind your father. Whoever was on the other side demanded for your father, shouting his name angrily as they continued to pound against the door. 

"Quick, out the window and onto the fire escape," Your dad urged quietly, pushing you towards the window. 

"W-what?!" You stumble in shock, eyes widening as the sound of the door being slammed against making you swallow in shock. 

"Get out!" He replied hurriedly, wrenching open the window and practically shoving you out, "Get to Westchester, find a man named Charles Xavier!"

"B-but dad!" You desperately tried to keep everything close to you as you got out onto the fire escape, "What's going to happen to you?!"

"I'll be fine," He breathed out, giving you a strained smile, "Be safe."

    He then slammed the window shut just as the men burst in. Four police officers, all looking incredibly pissed, grabbed hold of your father and began to drag him off. You slammed your hands against the window, screaming for him and trying your best to open the damned thing. Pulling back you did the only thing you could do. Focus. You squeezed your eyes shut and clenched your fists. This was how it went wasn't it? How the hell do you move the freaking ground?! Sweat had started up on your brow but not even the slightest movement was felt. Tears had made their way into your eyes as you shakily sobbed, your throat aching. He was gone...the only person who ever cared for you was gone in an instant. You wiped your nose gingerly, forehead pressed against the grimy and cool glass. 

    Westchester...he wanted you to go there and find someone. With a thick swallow, you stood up straight and took hold of your bags once again. You didn't know what was waiting for you in Westchester, but you weren't going to find out by just standing around. Now all you needed to do was find a way down.


End file.
